I grew up in Granny's house. I had a very happy childhood, even though there was no mother around. My dad, Auntie, Uncle Norm and Granny were all I needed to make my life whole.
My dad was a man to be admired, Granny and Auntie took care of me, and Norm was there to sing to me and fascinate me with his stories of the weird, strange and occult. (I can remember wanting to be a 'white witch') He pointed the way to books by H.G. Wells, Bram Stoker, Dennis Wheatley and such like. (He was my mentor) So, I grew up, very open to anything paranormal. (Despite the fact that my Granny and Auntie were very religious.)
Years later, after my dad remarried, and I, in turn, left home and married, my husband and I would return to Kimberley (South Africa) to visit the family on a regular basis. We live in what is now known as Gauteng Province.
At the time of my marriage, Granny was already bed-ridden. When our first daughter was born, ('67) Gran rallied enough to sit up in bed to view her great-grand-daughter. Eighteen months later, I was back to show her our second daughter and again she showed enthusiasm. Sadly, after her prolonged illness, she passed away fourteen months later. She died two days after our third daughter was born, and never got to hear of the birth. We did not have a phone in those days, and my husband told me, that between work, seeing to the other two girls, and visiting me in hospital, he just did not get a chance.
Yes, three girls within three years! But, remember, we didn't have TV in those days, he he...
About three or four years later, we were visiting Auntie, who had inherited her mom's house. She had taken over Granny's bedroom, but the furniture was still the same. The old wardrobe with its double doors, the dressing-table with the ornate carvings and the matching bed all stood in their familiar places.
We were all in the kitchen talking. (It's funny how old kitchens can be the centre of a family home.)
All the lights were on in the house, as dusk had fallen early. (It was winter.)
We didn't notice that the youngest girl had slipped away (presumably to explore by herself). A few minutes later, we heard her skipping down the passage, calling "Mommy, Mommy, Who is the old lady in the bed?"
I honestly can't remember if that question was ever answered, we were all too startled. Of course, we all trooped through to the front bedroom to have a look, but there was the bed, all neatly made, and of course, empty!
I wonder if Granny came back to see my last daughter? What do you think?
Thank you for reading my story.